


The Nth Time He Met Arthur Kirkland

by inkwells_writing



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Pottertalia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-16 00:13:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11242230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkwells_writing/pseuds/inkwells_writing
Summary: The first time he met Arthur Kirkland he almost punched him.  The second time he met Arthur Kirkland, Arthur fixed his glasses for him. The sixth time he truly met Arthur Kirkland, he stopped counting. The nth time he met Arthur Kirkland, he realized he was horribly, hopelessly, desperately in love.This is based off of some tumblr text post my friend sent me a long time ago that was like "harry and draco are friends and they find the mirror of erised and they see each other and realize theyre in love" and she just told me to make it usuk, so I did.Warnings: (swearing, vague mentions of not-good childhoods)





	1. Their First Year

The first time he met Arthur Kirkland he almost punched him. 

Granted, they were both snot-nose little first years, but in Alfred’s defense, Arthur didn’t have to go and comment on his broken glasses. It wasn’t  _ Alfred’s _ fault he couldn’t afford to fix them. If Matthew hadn’t been there in that train station, holding him back, Alfred would have punched him.

The second time he met Arthur Kirkland, Arthur fixed his glasses for him. 

It was minutes after their first meeting and they were stuck together on the train to Hogwarts. There had been no empty rooms, so the two had been forced to sit together. The tension in the room was awkward, and poor Matthew must have hated being in there with them. Even after the kid had fixed his glasses, Alfred still wanted to punch him (“I can’t stand how the crack is glinting in the light” was the British kid’s reasoning), but he was grateful. It was really hard to focus when everything in the top corner of his vision was doubled. The rest of the train was bearable, because Alfred just ignored him and talked to Matthew and Arthur just buried his nose in his book.

The third time he met Arthur Kirkland, Alfred was fighting back tears.

He was trying to find the Gryffindor common room at two in the morning. Alfred had been at Hogwarts for two weeks now, and he had spent the longest two weeks of his life not sleeping in the same room as his brother for the first time in  _ ever _ . 

Alfred and Matthew were twins, and had been through everything the world could throw at two eleven-years olds together. Every house they had ever stayed in, with every family dynamic a kid could go through, the two had shared a room, and in some, more cramped cases, a bed. Even the worst conditions had kept the two together, but now, with Alfred being assigned a Hufflepuff and Matthew a Gryffindor, they were separated. Luckily, the teachers realized after the first day that they really couldn’t be apart, so they had nearly every class together. However, that didn’t erase the fact they slept in separate rooms, miles apart (or that's what it felt like to the eleven year old as he stumbled around the dark castle).

He was on the verge of crying. Alfred had been like that since he woke up an hour ago, shaking and numb to the world. The tears had been pressing against his eyes when he stumbled out of bed to go to his brother and he realized  _ that wouldn’t be possible. _ So, he snuck out of his common room, past the kitchens, and had avoided the mean and scary ghosts that would get him in trouble. He knew the path to his brothers common room already, but the dark castle and his weary body caused him to quickly lose his way.

Was it up or down to the Gryffindor's common room? Was  _ he _ up or down in the castle? He hadn’t passed a window in a while, so maybe he was underground. Or maybe he was in one of the forbidden passageways that were off-limits and filled with monsters. The thought nearly made Alfred’s tears bubble over, until he heard a voice call out. 

“Hey!” Came a whispered-yell, “What are you doing out of bed this late?”

Alfred recognised the voice, and he looked up from the floor to see his (as Alfred had dubbed him the first time they met) nemesis. 

The third time he met Arthur Kirkland, Arthur was fighting back tears.

Alfred blinked. Arthur, as he learned on that excruciatingly long train ride, was a highbrow pureblood with the world at his fingertips. Tonight however, the world looked like it was resting squarely on the boy’s small shoulders- not his hands.

Forgetting his own woes at the pitiful sight of the boy, Alfred’s (hero) instincts kicked in. Unfortunately, they were the instincts of a child, and so the first thing he said was, “Why are you crying?”

Arthur didn’t take this kindly, “I am  _ not _ crying. You’re the one who is crying, baby-face.” 

Arthur’s insults were weak at best, and Alfred decided not to take it personally. A second-year, Gilbert, had taken one look at him and declared him “an awesomely adorable kid” and deemed Alfred his new brother. Alfred was used to having new siblings regularly, so he took this in stride. And, Arthur’s comment contradicted the fact that someone older and smarter thought he was “adorable” (whatever that meant) and Alfred was sure that a super cool twelve year old like Gilbert knew more than Arthur did.

“I think we’re both crying,” Alfred decided to say after a moment of contemplation. “But, if you want, we can both pretend to not be crying. That sounds a lot nicer than both of us actually crying.”  
Arthur snorted, the noise sounding weird when his nose was filled with tear-induced mucus. “You can’t just _pretend_ away your problems. That not how it works.”

“Sure it is!” Alfred exclaimed as he wiped his eyes and approached the other boy. “I do it all the time. I pretend that monsters are there, and then I pretend that they are gone, and so it should work if you pretend you’re not crying.”

Arthur stopped trying to wipe his own tears and stared at Alfred, “I don’t believe in pretending, so it won’t work on me.”

Alfred laughed, ignoring the fact they needed to be quite, “Of course you don’t believe in pretending! It’s not real, but it’s nice to pretend lots of things anyway. Before I learned I was a wizard, I would pretend I was a superhero! I would save my brother from lots of pretend things!”

Looking confused, Arthur opened his mouth to ask something, when thudding footsteps and a light appeared at the end of the hallway. The boys looked at each other and scattered. Alfred ran back to his dorm, and Arthur went down a flight of stairs that Alfred assumed was to the Slytherin common room. When Alfred entered his room and crawled back into bed, he didn’t even realize he had stopped crying and hadn’t thought about his nightmare since the green-eyed boy had appeared at the end of the hall. He didn’t even look for Matthew again that night. 

The fourth time he met Arthur Kirkland, they were both crying.

It was a week later in the same hallway, and they looked surprised to see each other. This time, however, they didn’t say anything to each other. They simply began to walk around the castle. Neither of them had a light, so they stayed close to the scattered windows that illuminated the halls with moon and starlight.

Somehow, they both had felt a peace between them that night. A similar situation, both crying and no one to comfort them, and a silent agreement to find solace in each other. Kindred spirits, in a way. 

The fifth time he met Arthur Kirkland, it was days after their last meeting. 

They bumped into each other in a hallway (Alfred soon dubbed it Their Hallway, as it seemed this was where they were destined to run into each other). 

“Jones, what are you doing? I thought you had class?” Arthur chided.

Alfred, not reading the tense note of Arthur’s tone that desperately screamed “don’t mention those two nights please,” just smiled and said, “Hey Arthur! You look different without tears in your eyes!”

If that hallway wasn’t empty that morning, Alfred F. Jones, self proclaimed hero, and soon-to-be Hufflepuff quidditch champion, would have died that day. The look in Arthur’s eyes showed his fate. Matthew was right, he needed to work on his filter.

“If I ever hear you mention that to anyone,” Arthur stepped forward and poked Alfred's chest with a finger, “I will use every jinx and curse known to man to end you where you stand. Do you hear me Jones?”

“Loud and clear!” Alfred shakily replied. Alfred hadn’t known that Arthur would be so upset about him bringing those nights up, but he still wanted to make up for it. As much of a pain in the butt as Arthur seemed to be, Alfred wanted to know what could bring such a small kid to cry so hard. (Alfred blatantly ignored the fact Arthur was older than him when he thought of the boy as smaller.)

“But Arthur!” Alfred said as Arthur tried to walk past him, “I have a free period! And obviously someone as stuck up as you isn’t ditching class, so let's hang out!”

Arthur glared at him and tried to walk away, but Alfred followed him. Alfred followed him, ignoring the insults and snarky remarks Arthur made to try and get him to leave him alone. Alfred followed him to the library and sat with Arthur as the boy read. Alfred followed him throughout his whole free period. Alfred followed him to his next class, which he realized was right next to Arthur’s. Alfred had gotten so caught up with trying to decipher and befriend Arthur Kirkland, he had forgotten why he had been walking down Their Hallway. Alfred had gotten so caught up in following Arthur, he had forgotten he was walking to Matthew’s class so they could walk together to their next class. 

Alfred had gotten so caught up with Arthur Kirkland that he paced around Their Hallway at night instead of searching for his brother. 

Now, Alfred did not get so caught up in Arthur Kirkland that he completely forgot his brother. Alfred and Matthew were still (mostly) inseparable, and they stuck together like glue during the day. The only times they were apart was during Alfred’s free period, and at night. Then, Alfred would search out Arthur Kirkland in a bumbling attempt to befriend the other boy. 

This is excluding one very important night. 

Matthew had rushed up to Alfred during lunch, out of breath and a large book clutched to his chest. Adventure was shining in his eyes, and Matthew began to lament about a “magical mirror that showed you your wildest dreams,” as Matthew put it. Alfred, never one to brush aside an adventure, quickly agreed. 

“Okay, Alfred, I’ll meet you in front of that weird statue, the one you said reminded you of the old woman who lived across the street from us in California.” Matthew said as they walked out of the lunch room, ignoring the chatter as people opened the letters from the Owls that arrived every Tuesday.

“You have to admit that old hag matches the wrinkles on the statue, dude!” Alfred laughed as they walked towards their potions class. 

“I never disagreed with you, I just said that was insulting to the statue.”

As Alfred went to his class, he didn’t think twice about how Arthur always appeared in the hallways on Tuesdays, and how that very day was Tuesday. It didn’t cross his mind that Arthur had stopped crying most nights when they saw each other, but he still seemed visibly distressed. 

It didn’t occur to Alfred that Arthur may have been counting on seeing a familiar face, one that was kind and honest. 

Later that night, Alfred considering doing a ‘ninja-roll’ to get to the statue quickly, but dismissed the idea. Not that he was scared of falling or anything, but it could end up being loud. That was one hundred percent his reasoning. Nothing else. Alfred neared the statue and sat down, looking around for his brother. Seeing a shadow appear from the end of the hallway, he got up and smiled. 

“Matthew!” Alfred whisper-yelled, waving the boy over, “Where’re we headed?”

Matthew, ignoring the fact that Alfred’s whisper-yell was less of a whisper and more of a yell, began to lead his brother down a series of long, dark hallways. “The book says the mirror finds the people who seek it out, so I plan on heading into the older rooms of the castle and hoping.”

Alfred halted, staring at his brother, “ _ That’s your plan? _ Wandering around? It could take hours, bro. And I thought I was supposed to be the spacey Hufflepuff.”

“You are the spacy Hufflepuff. I’m the courageous Gryffindor who is seeking out a forbidden mirror in the middle of the night when we could get caught at any moment.” 

Faking an insulted gasp, Alfred cried, “Oh dear, my brother has grown up so quickly! He’s already learning the ways of sarcasm!” Dropping the falsetto voice Alfred used to mock his brother, he added, “Where’d you learn how to be snarky anyway? You used to be so shy.”

Matthew turned his head to look at his brother, “I was never shy, I was just biding my time until I could rise above you and be the alpha twin.” The boys continued walking through the halls, slipping into doorways and wandering up moving staircases.

Alfred frowned and said, “Sorry bro, but I’m the alpha twin here. I’ve got the height advantage and the strength.” 

“I’ve got the better grades, though!” 

“Hey! Just because I’m not acing all of my Transfiguration and History of Magic classes doesn't mean I’m stupid. I’ve still got better grades in Defense Against the Dark Arts,  _ and _ we have the same Potions grade. I’d say we’re equal.”

Matthew huffed, “Then we’re physically matched too! Becuase we both used to do soccer.”

As Alfred opened his mouth to make a snarky comment, Matthew hushed him by covering his mouth with his hand. Before Alfred could pry it away, Matthew turned to him and smiled, “Look! We found it!”

Alfred looked to where his brother was pointing and stared. He hadn’t even noticed they had entered a new room, one with a golden arch framed that a large piece of glass. Intricate designs ran up the sides, and there were words following the curve of the arch, but Alfred couldn’t tell what they said. Turning to ask his brother, he was startled when Matthew ran forward and stopped in front of the mirror. 

Watching his brother, Alfred stepped forward as well. He glanced at the mirror and was rooted to the spot. Two figures stood there, hugging both him and his brother. Alfred had never seen the people before but he knew who they were supposed to be. He knew that, somehow, his parents were in that mirror. 

Alfred felt tears in his eyes, wanting what he was seeing so badly. He turned to his brother and said, “Do… Do you see them too?”

Matthew turned to him and smiled, the smile was almost as big as the one when they learned they would get to go to school all year and  _ not  _ have to go home, “Yes. I do see them.”

The two brothers sat there for a long while, for hours, quietly whispering about what they think their parents are like. They’d had this conversation before, but now, it felt more real. It felt like a dream that was becoming tangible. Seeing these two people in front of them, the man sharing their eyes and the woman displaying the same blonde hair they both had made them grasp how desperately they wanted a permanent family. 

Eventually, Matthew grew restless. He began to fidget, stretching his legs and moving his arms around a lot. “Alfred, we have to go.” He stood and tried pulling Alfred up with him.

“What? Why? Why can’t we stay here just a little longer?” Alfred said, his voice cracking.

Matthew looked towards the mirror once more before tearing his eyes away, “The books I read about this mirror, they warned me that people often got lost in the mirror. We need to leave before we get too distracted by it”

Alfred frowned but stood, still looking at the mirror. “Okay…”

“Alfred?”

“Yes?”

“We can’t go looking for it again. We have to let this…  _ fantasy  _ go. Promise?”

Alfred took one last long look at the mirror, at his parents, before he ripped his gaze away and stormed out of the room. Grabbing Matthews hand, he cried, “Welp! I need my rest! Let’s get back.”

Neither brother acknowledged how Alfred never agreed to the promise. Matthew, becuase he didn’t want to upset Alfred further. And Alfred, becuase he was ashamed he couldn’t simply ‘let this fantasy go.’

Both brothers thought about that mirror for years to come. 

 

The sixth time he truly met Arthur Kirkland, he stopped counting. 

Granted, Alfred knew his mental counter wasn’t right, but he was only keeping track of their important meetings. Alfred knew, after that sixth meeting, every time they saw each other was important.

The sixth time he met Arthur Kirkland, the boy was both furious and crying, again.

“Where were you last week, Jones?!” Arthur hissed, holding his illuminated wand up. A newly learned spell, he hadn’t perfected it yet. And so, instead of creating a calming orange light it was a harsh white light that made his already pale face look drained of all life. However, looking back on it, he may have actually been drained.

“Well, you’re not here every week, why should I be?” Alfred said, only slightly annoyed. Alfred really did like talking to Arthur, and when Arthur wasn’t there it kinda hurt. 

Arthur looked down, as if ashamed, “I have my reasons…” 

“Well, I had my reasons last week! I was with my brother.”

Arthur squinted at him, “You were sneaking around after dark? Don’t you know that you could get in a lot of trouble if you were caught?”

Alfred could have gone the smart route and pointed out that they were breaking the rules too, but Alfred another thought entered his mind, one brought on by the tone of Arthur’s voice. One that he probably should shouldn’t have blurted out, “Arthur! Are you concerned about me?”

He meant it to be teasing, but the way Arthur tensed up, and the way his lingering tears began to multiply, Alfred suddenly knew he had said the wrong thing. He walked over to Arthur, putting a hand on his shoulder, awkwardly trying to comfort him. “Hey, hey. I, um, I was just kidding. I know you’re not concerned about me?” That’s what Arthur wanted to hear, right?

Arthur swallowed a sob, a noise that Alfred recognized as having made it often when he tried to keep himself quiet. 

“No, it’s, it’s not that, you moron,” Arthur choked out. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, and he was biting his lip to the point of it bleeding slightly. “And, and stop touching me. I know  _ you _ don’t care  _ me _ . All I’m here for is so you can laugh with your brother at the pathetic  _ little Slytherin who can’t even stop crying! _ ‘Oi! Last night, he actually cried! What a loser!’ Well, I don’t need you to mock me, Jones!” Arthur was yelling at this point, the light on his wand flickering violently. He had pushed Alfred away during his rant, and Alfred had no idea what to say.

Arthur turned to run away when Alfred grabbed his arm, “Arthur, I would never mock you. Why would you think I would?”

Arthur glared at him, the effect of the normally stone-cold gaze weakened by the tears, “Why wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t be the only one to do so!” 

Arthur’s eyes immediately widened as he realized what he had said, and he ripped his hand out of Alfred’s grasp. Watching Arthur run away, Alfred realized there was something really wrong with Arthur’s life. And Alfred, being a hero, had to help.

Caught up in thinking about Arthur, he didn’t hear the teacher walk up behind him, “Ah, Alfred. I should have known it was you causing all this ruckus.” 

Alfred jolted and began stuttering out an excuse as to why he was out. The teacher held up her hand and tsked, “I’ll be seeing you every night for one week after your last class. You’ll be cleaning up my cauldrons. Don’t be late, Alfred. Now, let me walk you back to your dorm.”

Alfred held his head down in shame and didn’t speak the entire time the teacher walked him back. Later, as he lay in his bed, he was still silent. His mind was running at a million miles an hour as he thought about how he could make Arthur feel better. 

He wanted to help, but he needed to find out what was wrong first. 

The next time he saw Arthur Kirkland, he attempted to become friends.

“Arthur! Wait up!” Alfred sprinted up the moving staircase and tried to catch his breath. Arthur had been avoiding him for the past couple of weeks, never showing up in Their Hallway at night and avoiding his usual study spots. It was only through the careful bribery of some upperclassmen in Arthur’s house that he managed to get ahold of Arthur’s schedule. And in turn, he knew where Arthur would be.

It wasn’t creepy. Or stalking. It was… recon. Or, that’s what Alfred told Matthew when his brother started teasing him. 

“What do you want? I’m going to be late for Transfiguration.” Arthur huffed. Alfred noticed Arthur wouldn’t meet his eye. 

“Listen Arthur, I want to apologize.” Alfred had carefully crafted his words over the weeks, knowing that his brashness had caused the problem in the first place. 

Arthur huffed, “I have no idea what you are referring to. If you’ll excuse me, I have class to get to. Something you should be worried about too if you care about your future.”

Alfred frowned, but held back his retort. If there was anything he knew about Arthur, it was that patience is key. “I do care about my future. Which is why I’m apologizing! I want a future where my friends aren’t mad at me.”

Apparently, no matter how carefully crafted a person's words were, they could still easily set off Arthur. Alfred learned this when Arthur’s face grew red and he exploded, “Look, Jones, I don’t know what kind of stupid game you are playing with me, but it needs to stop. I am not some joke for you to laugh at, and as I said the other night, I would appreciate it if you didn’t mock me.” 

Arthur began to walk up the stairs, halting when Alfred spoke, “I’m not mocking you. I’m trying to be your friend! I don’t understand why we can’t! Is it because I’m a muggle-born?”

Arthur’s back tensed, and he refused to turn around as he spoke, “I’m not that rude.”

Alfred frowned, “It sure feels like you are.”

Arthur sighed before he turned, “If you are so determined to be my friend, then you better show up in our hallway. I don’t want to be kept waiting if you’re not going to come.”

Alfred beamed, “Okay! But just to be sure, you don’t hate me because I’m muggle-born, right?”

Arthur shook his head as he started to walk, “No, I don’t.”

“Awesome!”


	2. Their Second Year

The next time he saw Arthur Kirkland, they had grown closer as friends.

Arthur still refused to open up to him, but Alfred realized that he’d need time. And something obviously affected Arthur, to an extent that it was difficult for him to really open up. Alfred just decided to do what he did best: be a smiling face when Arthur needed one. 

And so their friendship lasted. It last all throughout their first year, and continued on through the summer, conversations being held through letters and owls. Arthur asked Alfred a lot about what it was like at home for him, and Alfred answered by explaining common and “strange muggle activities,” as Arthur put it. Alfred would ask Arthur how he spent his days with magic all around him, how it felt to be not need to hide away his magic over summer, but Arthur never gave much of an answer aside from “I read  _ real _ books, not those strange, unmoving pictures you find so interesting.” 

Of course, Alfred knew Arthur's snark was due to him finding the comics cool and being too embarrassed to say anything, as he sent Arthur one of the books to look at, and Arthur claimed to have misplaced it. Alfred knew that was grumpy code for “It’s totally awesome and I want to bask in its glory for longer by stealing it.” 

Neither of them acknowledged how the other would avoid questions about their home lives, focusing on questions about their cultures. Nothing too invasive. No questions that would give away what the other so desperately wanted to hide away.

As summer ended, Alfred and Matthew were carted off to the station. They boarded the train together, and much like last year, the only open room held a lonely Arthur Kirkland. Alfred smiled and tried to start a conversation with his friend, but Arthur seemed reluctant to relax around Matthew. 

Eventually, Alfred tried to break the tension by saying, “Hey, Arthur! Are you thinking of trying out for Quidditch this year? Me and Matthew have both decided to get on our teams so we can prove who’s the alpha brother!” 

Arthur continued to look out the train window as he snapped, “Alfred, you do know that simply trying out won’t guarantee you a spot on the team, right? Have you ever even ridden a broom outside of those few practice sessions last year?”

Alfred blinked and mumbled a quiet, “Ya, I guess,” and the room was silent again. Arthur suddenly looked tense and scared, and Alfred could see him glance at Matthew. Knowing that look was to see if Matthew was angered by Arthur’s comment, Alfred got a little nervous too. Arthur’s personality was always prickly, but Alfred really wasn’t offended by the comments anymore.  _ They’re just a part of Arthur. But if Matthew wasn’t used to it, he may get offe- _

The silence was deafening until Matthew bust out laughing, “Geeze, Alfred, can’t believe he shut you up so well!”

After that, the ride was less tense. Still quiet, with only small conversations at times, but not uncomfortable. It seemed Arthur and Matthew may also become friends, and Alfred decided then and there that it would happen. He would make sure of it.

The next time Alfred saw Arthur, it was on opposing sides of the Quidditch field in the pouring rain.

Alfred smirked, knowing Arthur had been practicing all day and night to be good enough to be on the team, as Seeker no less. Alfred ended up as a Beater. 

As proud Alfred was for himself, and as much as he wanted to win, he also knew how badly Arthur wanted to prove himself (even if he wouldn’t admit it) by winning. 

However, Alfred also knew he would never be able to subtly go easy on Arthur, and so he knew he would give the game his all and hope Arthur was content with the outcome.

And they both did give it their all. Alfred playing hard, and if he was paying attention, Alfred may have noticed Arthur being neck and neck with Michelle, their Seeker, the entire game. The game was tied, and Alfred was focused intently on hitting the Bludger that was headed for Seeker, when the second Bludger hit him in the arm when he wasn’t looking. And suddenly, the world was upside down.

He began to fall, but it felt as though the world was slowing to a crawl. It was amazing the things a person could think about in the short time it takes to fall off their broom and onto the ground. 

And yet, when he finally did his the muddy ground, Alfred couldn’t remember a thing he had thought about. All his attention was on the back of his head that had slammed on the ground, his back that had rammed into the mud, but mostly his arm, pinned under his back. It burned, it stung, it hurt like every possible way for an arm to hurt. Vaguely, Alfred heard people around him, and he assumed the game had ground to a halt as people began to swarm around him, but he didn’t register any of it.

All he could focus on was his arm and how much it  _ hurt _ .

And then he jolted up, hazy and unsure of where he was. 

A part of Alfred heard and processed that a voice was speaking to him, but Alfred was too busy staring at his arm. It was wrapped in bandages, resting against the bed limply. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before opening his eyes again and looking around. 

Matthew was still trying to talk to him, but Alfred ignored his voice in favor of taking in the Hospital Wing. Amazingly, he never landed in there his first year. The room was almost dingy, built with a cold and dark stone that seemed to fill the room. Alfred didn’t like it.

But as he scanned the room, he noticed someone standing in the corner. Arthur. 

Alfred lifted his hand to wave, but then stopped when a jolt of pain ran down his arm. 

Then, he finally heard Matthew. “You’re not supposed to move your arm quite yet. Leave it alone.”

Matthew sounded pissed.

“Hey Matthew?” Alfred started, suddenly not in the mood for his brother to begin to be mad at him for his (probably) reckless Quidditch playing. “Can you please llecture me later? I wanna talk to Arthur about the game!” Alfred said, cutting his brother off. 

Matthew huffed, “I was watching the game, I could tell you what happened!”

“I know, but I still wanna talk to Arthur!”

Matthew rolled his eyes and walked out, saying “I’ll be back with your homework later,” as the door shut behind him. He seemed mad, but Alfred could read the concern in his voice. He’d have to apologize later, but the look on Arthur’s face felt more important. 

“Who won the game, Arthur?” He asked, trying to get his friend to talk. 

His friend just stared at him, and Alfred realized he was looking at his arm. Alfred huffed out a laugh, “Yeah, this kinda sucks. But hey, I get out of potions for a few days until Madame Pomfrey lets me leave. But seriously, who won, dude?”

Arthur shook his head, as if clearing a fog out of his head, and said, “Ah, I got distracted when I saw you fall and your seeker, Michelle, grabbed the snitch. She wants a rematch though, saying something about how ‘it’s not a victory unless her opponent is fully invested’ or something. Honestly, I have no idea how that girl is a Hufflepuff.”

“Aww, Artie,” Alfred smirked, “were you worried about me?”

“I’ve told you not to call me that,” Arthur huffed, “And of course I’m worried about my friend!” Arthur turned to storm out, and Alfred realized he had teased a little too much. There was a line that Alfred was learning about, and he was still figuring out how far across he could step before he had gone too far.

“Wait, Arthur.”

His friend paused, turning to look back at Alfred, “Later on, can you bring me some of the food from the dining hall? This sick person food sucks.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and left. But, despite his apparent lack of care, he returned after dinner, and again in the middle of the night. 

Arthur had snuck in, but it wasn’t such a feat considering any noise made could be easily drowned out by the kid snoring a few beds away from Alfred. The two friends talked for a while until Arthur yawned, which caused Alfred to start to fuss and force Arthur to go back to his room for a proper night’s rest.

The next day, Gilbert, a Beater for the Slytherin team, stopped by. He began to apologize, “Listen, dude, I really didn’t mean to send that Bludger right at you. I was aiming for Elizaveta and my grip slipped a little, and then the ball was headed straight at you!”

Alfred laughed it off, “It’s totally cool! I should be thanking you for getting me out of classes for a few days.”

The third-year smiled, “It’s still super un-awesome” He looked up at Alfred and held out his hand, “I’ll just owe you one. If you ever need a favor from a _ very  _ skilled wizard, just come to me! I’m an expert in pranks, and me and my friend know something about everyone in this castle. My skills can be of use to you, I know it.”

Alfred shook his hand with his good arm, “I can’t turn down a free favor!”

A few days later, Alfred was cleared. He celebrated as though he had been released from jail, as he hated to be cooped up. His fellow Hufflepuffs celebrated the return of “the great beater who got beat!” as Mathias yelled. Everyone was interested in his arm, despite the fact that the bone was fully healed. 

Alfred laughed and talked with everyone, and slowly everyone filtered out of the room. Alfred followed the last person up the the dorms, flopping on the best and asleep almost instantly.

Hours later, he jolted awake. Alfred was panting, struggling to find a breath through his tears. 

Alfred quickly got out of bed and left the common room without anyone noticing. Alfred had quickly mastered the art of moving through the halls unnoticed, and was soon sitting at the end of his and Arthur’s hallway. 

Alfred didn’t know why he went there, becuase Arthur only went down the hall on Tuesday, or if they had set up a meeting. Maybe it was because he had made good memories in the hall, or maybe because the hallway was so unlike the dark and oppressing one in his dream.

Either way, Alfred was sitting in it. He couldn’t stop crying. No matter what happy thoughts he tried to think of, he kept choking on sobs.

Then, suddenly, Alfred remembered. 

He remembered the mirror.

He remembered sitting in front of that mirror, with his parents there. 

And just like that, Alfred was sprinting through the halls, looking for that room. It didn’t take him long to find it. Or, it didn’t take the mirror long to find him _. _ As he turned a corner, he saw a small doorway tucked into a quiet hallway. Alfred hesitantly stepped into the room, staring at the beautiful mirror. 

One foot at a time, tears still flowing, Alfred approached the mirror. And just like it had last year, the mirror showed his parents. 

He looked at this happy, _calm,_ _quiet_ couple, and the tears streamed down his face, dripping soundlessly onto the floor.

He had never met his parents. He didn’t know anything about them. But Alfred knew these two people  _ had _ to be he parents. They way they hugged him tight, and the way they whispered small, calming words into his ear. It was all he had ever wanted from a family. 

Alfred stopped crying right as they hugged his mirror-self. He didn’t cry or sleep the rest of the night, and only the bell that chimed to warn for first period shook him out of his stupor. He panicked and jolted away, running to his dorm to grab his book then outside to the greenhouse. 

Even though he was late and exhausted, Alfred didn’t care. He felt good, knowing that if he had another bad night his parents would be there waiting for him.

At dinner that day, Matthew came over to his table. “Hey Alfred,” Matthew said with concern in his voice.

Alfred grunted an acknowledgement and continued to eat his food. 

“Are you okay? You’ve seemed out of it all day. You barely even seemed to care in Defense Against the Dark Arts!”

He turned to smile at his brother, “I’m fine. Just sleepy.”

Matthew squinted at him and began to speak when a cacophony of hoots and the fluttering of wings filled the air. 

Mail was being dropped onto tables and packages were being set on top of dinner plates as owls entered the room. Kids quickly shielded and moved their plates as they tried to stop mail from falling onto the food. People quickly began to hand the mail to the right people, and teenagers moved around the room. A Ravenclaw student chucked a small box to the Gryffindor table, where a girl handed it off to the boy sitting across from her. Gilbert picked up a letter, and quickly handed it off to the brunette sitting next to him with a wink. The shouting of a Howler erupted from the Gryffindor table, earning teasing laughter in response. A crisp, formal looking letter landed in front of Alfred, narrowly avoiding his plate.

_ To: Arthur Kirkland. From: Mr. Kirkland.  _

Alfred smiled and quickly picked up the letter. As a self-proclaimed hero, he needed to get his best friend’s mail to him quickly and safely! 

Alfred rushed past his brother, who had found his own piece of mail to deliver, and headed straight towards the Slytherin table. He dodged the mail and packages being thrown and levitated across the room, used to this madness by now. He remembered, with some embarrassment, how scary his first mail drop had been. The paper and objects and the chaos was panic inducing, and Alfred had quickly left the room. It had felt too much like his and Matthews last home, and Matthew had seemed to feel the same, because Alfred saw his brother sitting out of the Great Hall as well. 

Now, Alfred looked forward to the chaos. It was fun, really, to be able to throw mail towards people and watch how excited people got when their families sent them letters, or when their partners sent them cute love notes by owl. 

The next time he saw Arthur Kirkland, the boy looked sick to his stomach.

Alfred saw his friend sitting, but he didn’t seemed to be excited to see the owls. He looked much like Alfred had felt during his first mail drop. His knuckles were white, tightly clenched against the silverware he was holding. Arthur wasn’t looking up, but staring anxiously into the bowl of soup in front of him. 

Alfred slowed his pace, suddenly very aware of Arthur. He tried to make noise as he approached, letting Arthur know he was there before he was right on him. Arthur either ignored him, or his soup was more interesting than Alfred. 

Something inside Alfred was telling him to stop, to not deliver this letter, to let Arthur be, but Alfred didn’t want to get in trouble for stealing mail (the punishment was a preposterous amount of detention) so he continued to approach Arthur.

“Hey, dude, I got a letter that’s addressed to you!” Alfred said. His voice was loud enough to be heard over the chatter of the Great Hall, but still subdued.

Arthur looked up quickly, his normally pale face seeming even more pale, and with a shaky hand accepted the outstretched letter. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Alfred said, off put by Arthur’s quiet voice. He stood there a few seconds longer, unsure of what to do, before he turned to head back to his table. Arthur continued to stare hazily into an unknown distance. 

But before he took a step, Arthur spoke up. “Will I be seeing you tonight?”

Alfred turned to see Arthur gingerly turning the letter over in his hands. Alfred put on his biggest smile, “Of course!”

When Alfred sat back at his table, he secretly watched Arthur set the letter down, unopened. He watched as Arthur didn’t take a bite of his food. He watched as Arthur left the Great Hall earlier than most. 

That night, Alfred watched Arthur as the other boy tried not to cry. Alfred watched as his jokes didn’t fully reach Arthur’s ears, and as the smile didn’t reach his eyes. 

From then on, Alfred was more careful. He was a naturally abrasive kid, but Alfred began to piece things together. From then on, Alfred watched Arthur on Tuesdays when the mail arrived. And he made sure, no matter how tired he was, even if the two had argued during the day, even if Arthur didn’t receive a letter that day, to always be in Their Hallway. 

During summer break, Alfred sent letters to Arthur often. He talked about trivial things, but he truly enjoyed the letters he got back from his friend. 

He laughed at Arthur’s confusion over microwaves and ovens, and was puzzled by Arthur’s explanation on how to enter the Ministry of Magic. 

One night over summer break, after reading a particularly short letter from his friend, Alfred began to think. 

_ Maybe… _ Alfred began, before shaking his head,  _ Matthew would be furious if he found out. But if it’ll help Arthur… _

Alfred stared up at his ceiling, contemplating. 

He didn’t come to a decision until the end of the summer. 

Alfred decided to show his best friend something that would make him happy. After all, it showed Alfred what he desired most, and it would have to make him happy.

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao I cannot remember when the post arrives and it’s not on the wiki, and i also don’t want to scour the books until I find out the canon owl post delivery at hogwarts, so in this fic just know- on tuesdays at dinner the owls drop the posts on the tables, and like the weekly mail delivery. They can send mail whenever, but stuff has to go through like, magical scanning to make sure theres no curses or hexes placed on the mail and so they just drop it all at once on tuesdays. Sorry if it doesnt fix the hp cannon, but this is a hetalia fic, so i dont think people will be too nit picky lol. I also like the idea of the owls not knowing who to drop it by so everyone has to search around for the owner. The staff at hogwarts, whoever checks for hexes i guess, also put the house the student is in so if someone doesnt know the name they can just like, throw it towards that persons table.
> 
> Also!!! kudos and comments are very much apprecieated, and if you liked this, maybe consider checking out my tumblr @inkwells-writing !!!


	3. Their Third Year

“Arthur! Arthur! Arth-” 

“Bloody hell, Alfred, what? I saw you yesterday. No need to be so… clingy.” Arthur said as he pushed Alfred away.

“Aw, but Arthur, that doesn’t count. Two seconds during the Welcoming Feast before we were swept away doesn’t compare to actually being able to talk to you! I couldn’t talk to you on the train either! Where were you, anyways?” Alfred asks. He really hadn’t been able to find Arthur, and he had ended up forcing Matthew to walk the length of the train twice, peeking into every chamber, before Matthew had shoved him into a random compartment.

Arthur paused, looking down at his history books. Arthur looked up at Alfred, who had sat himself on Arthur's desk as they were waiting for the teacher, “I was late for the train so Father took me separately.”

Alfred cocked his head, “Late? But you’re never late, dude.”

Arthur took a deep breath and spoke as if he was struggling to get the words out, “I’ve actually been wanting to talk to you about something later-”

“Wait, Mrs. Minella just walked in. I don’t wanna get in trouble, we can talk later, ‘kay?”

Arthur nodded and that was that.

They didn’t end up talking later. And it wasn’t like Alfred didn’t try and talk to Arthur, but if it were in class he would get shushed or moved by the teacher. Or, Alfred would try and hunt Arthur down in the Great Hall, only to find that Arthur had already finished eating. Alfred would try and find Arthur in the library, but he never seemed to be there when Alfred went looking for him. The most concerning part was Arthur didn’t show up in their hallways that year, at all. Even on Tuesdays, Arthur stayed out of Alfred’s sights.

It made Alfred worry, and as time went on, Alfred began to suspect Arthur was avoiding him. Or, as he asked around, Arthur was avoiding  _ everyone.  _

And it haunted Alfred. Arthur’s had said he wanted to  _ talk _ about  _ something _ and Alfred had no way of finding out what it was. He cared about his friend and he wasn’t stupid. He knew Arthur was hiding things- he may only be thirteen, but he wasn’t naive- and Alfred felt as though he  _ needed _ to know. After all, Arthur was his best friend. Alfred should be the one to help him! And he had brushed Arthur off the first time, and now Arthur probably assumed Alfred didn’t care. 

“Hey, what’s up with you?” Matthew asked, startling Alfred into dropping his sandwich.

“Don’t sneak up on a guy like that!” He huffed indignantly, picking up his food.

“Sorry, sorry,” Matthew laughed lightly. “But seriously, what’s wrong?” Matthew took the open seat next to Alfred, grabbing one of the sandwiches for himself. 

Alfred sighed and picked apart his sandwich, “Nothing.”

“Is it Arthur?” Matthew asked. It wasn’t as if he needed to phrase it as a question anyways. Matthew was smart, and Alfred knew he was only asking to give Alfred a chance to avoid talking about it.

But, Matthew was always full of good ideas, so it couldn’t hurt to ask for advice, “Yeah. He’s been ignoring me! I’ve been trying to find him for weeks but it seems like he’s avoiding me…”

Matthew hummed, “What do you think is wrong?”

Alfred looked around and scooted down the table, away from other people. Matthew followed as Alfred quietly spoke, “Well, it was the first day of classes and he seemed to want to talk to me? But the teacher walked in so I cut him off, and now I think he hates me or something.” He huffed and set his head down on the table.

“Well,” Matthew began, “He’s probably embarrassed about it? That the only reason I could see Arthur ignoring you.”

Alfred pushed his arms under his head as he grumbled, “It doesn’t even matter  _ what’s  _ wrong. It’s just the fact that I can’t even talk to him to ask!”

Matthew stole his sandwich and began eating it, and Alfred knew he was in thought. They sat in silence for a bit until Matthew perked up, “What about Gilbert? Remember, you were so excited to have an older student owe you a favor. Both him and Arthur are Slytherin so I’m sure he could tell you where he is, or at least get you two together.”

Alfred shot up and beamed. “Yeah! Thanks bro! I’ll tell you how it goes,” He called out as he ran towards the Slytherin table.

It took him a while, but a few students told him that he could find Gilbert in the Divination tower. 

He made his way up the steps, glad he was taking the class that year and he knew where it was. This part of the castle was like a maze, and he did not want to get lost, especially now that he was on a super important mission. 

When he got to the top, the class had just ended and Alfred smushed himself against the wall so the fourth and fifth years who had decided to take Divination a second time wouldn’t trample him. 

He caught a peek of Gilbert, and called out above the noise to him, “Gilbert! Wait up!” 

Luckily, the man heard him over the noise and shoved his way through the crowd to him by the wall. Alfred smiled and held up a hand, waiting for the crowd to thin. Gilbert read the mood and waved his friends on. 

When the hall was empty and the door to the Divination room shut fully, Gilbert turned to Alfred with a sly grin, “This is about my favor, isn’t it? Well, can’t say I’m surprised you’re cashing it in so soon, what do you want? I have access to love potions, sleeping potions, and some exotic pets that I probably should  _ not  _ have my hands on. I also-”

Alfred blinked, surprised at the stuff he was listing off, “Wait, isn’t like half that junk super illegal?”

He frowned before cursing under his breath, “Should have known that’s not what a goody-two-shoes like you would want. Ignore everything I just said, you didn’t hear any of it.”

Alfred laughed awkwardly, “Uh, okay. But this _ is  _ about the favor.”

Gilbert visibly brightened, letting a big smile settle on his face, “What do you need! I’m happy to help.”

“Well, it’s about Arthur? Arthur Kirkland. He’s a Slytherin, like you, third-”

“Third year, rich family. Hasn’t been attending classes. I know him.”

Alfred blinked, “Wait, he’s not going to some of his classes?”

“You’re friends with him, right?” He asked, looking serious.

Alfred tilted his head, “Yeah, but I think he’s been avoiding me and I really wanna find him so I can talk to him and-”

“Listen, I love all the little Slytherin’s who are younger than me. They’re all basically my siblings, good kids, you know, so you helping Arthur would be like you’re helping me. Tell you what, go to the oak tree on the little hill by the Great Lake tonight before midnight. This really isn’t something too difficult for me to do, so just let’s say I still owe you something, alright?”

Alfred nodded, a little dumbfounded. 

Gilbert patted him on the shoulder with a resolute nod, “You’re a good kid. Good for the little twerp. I was friends with one of Arthur’s brothers before he graduated. He could have used a good influence on him, like Arthur has with you. Don’t screw this up.”

He watched as Gilbert walked away, stunned and confused, as he pieced together that Gilbert would get Arthur to go to that spot as well. At least, he hoped what was going on. He couldn’t really be sure, the guy did start talking cryptic, but either way, he was going to that tree tonight. 

He got there early, and it felt weird. Alfred had snuck out of bed at Hogwarts more times than he could count, and in some of his homes, he had snuck out of the house and gone far away at night before returning. But there was something to be said about Alfred being early (not just on time) to a place, with the combination of how…  _ amplified _ the magic of Hogwarts felt when it neared midnight. The Great Lake was shimmering, and the moon (nearly full, but not quite) illuminated the castle grounds like nothing Alfred had seen before. 

Pacing around the tree for a while, Alfred began to work himself up. When he saw the light in the groundskeepers house go on, Alfred was ready for the groundskeeper to come storming over to him and expel him for being so reckless. Alfred only relaxed when the hut was dimmed again. Eventually, the moon was directly overhead and Alfred assumed he had been waiting for at least an hour, making the time somewhere around twelve-thirty. 

He almost wanted to call it quits, when he heard footsteps coming from the direction of the castle. Alfred ducked behind the tree, in case it was a teacher.

It wasn’t.

It was Arthur, wearing a wrinkled uniform, with his hands shoved in his pockets. He looked horrible too. Alfred wasn’t able to get a good look at his friend nowadays, but now, illuminated by the pale moon, Arthur looked as if he hadn’t slept in years. 

In shock, Alfred stayed behind the tree, watching his friend. Arthur looked around for a second, before he shook his head. Alfred heard him mumble, “This is stupid. Gilbert lied, there’s nothing important here.”

As Arthur turned to walk away, Alfred felt his heart skip a beat and he jumped out from behind the tree and yelled, “Arthur! Wait!”

Arthur froze, and turned to look at him. When he saw Alfred, his eyes widened and he bolted away. Wasting no time, Alfred ran after him. He quickly caught up, grabbing on to Arthur’s wrist. 

Arthur squirmed and flailed, and he began to shout, “Let go of me! Let me go!”

He was being loud, and Alfred tried to shush him, but Arthur didn’t listen. Out of the corner of his eye, Alfred saw the groundskeeper's house illuminate again. 

Panicking, Alfred shoved Arthur to the ground and placed his hand on his mouth, silencing him. 

Arthur glared and him and clawed at his hand, but didn’t make any noise. Alfred stared at the house, waiting for it to go dark. When it did, he rolled off of Arthur.

“Sorry,” Alfred whispered, he hoped his friend didn’t try and run away again.

Surprising both of them, Arthur didn’t. He just sighed and sat up. He tucked his knees into his chest and looked away from Alfred towards the castle. Alfred scooted closer to Arthur and looked at his friend. 

A million questions ran through his mind:  _ Why have you been avoiding me? What were you going to tell me? Why have you not been going to class?  _

But instead of any of those, Alfred asked a much more important question, “Are you okay?”

Arthur jolted and stared at Alfred silently. The world felt as if it slowed, until Arthur sucked in a deep breath and began to sob. Alfred pushed himself towards his friend, enveloping him into a hug. When he tucked Arthur into him, he heard his friend call out a broken, “N-no. I’m really, really not.”

They sat there like that for a long time. Only when the moon was hidden behind the tree, did Arthur start to talk. It was broken and hesitant. His words were often cut off by his tears or by Alfred hugging him closer. 

What he told Alfred was horrifying, and Alfred grew more and more furious at what Arthur told him about his family, about his parents, about his  _ father. _

When Arthur had finished, the sun had began to rise. It was hidden behind the castle, but the sky was dappled with oranges and pinks, and Alfred knew that was all they could talk for one night. 

He looked down at his friend, who rubbed under his eyes, and spoke, “Arthur, I’m sorry for brushing you off in class that day. I wish I could do more…”

Arthur let out a hollow laugh before he shakily got to his feet, “It’s fine. I’m fine. We should get to class, anyways.”

Alfred frowned, “Gilbert said you haven’t been going to classes, so what’s one more day, right?”

Arthur looked at him, confused, “What do you mean?”

Alfred grinned, “Can I show you something?”

Arthur nodded and Alfred stood, reaching a hand down to help Arthur up. He began to walk in the direction of the castle, pulling Arthur along by the hand. Neither let go. 

He led Arthur through the gates they snuck out of, up numerous moving stairs, through Their Hallway, past the statue of the ugly woman, wandering through the halls. They both heard the first bell ring, but each of them ignored it in favor of walking in silence. They passed no one in the halls, making them feel eerily alone. Eventually, Alfred saw an archway and he just knew that was where to go. 

He slowed to a stop in front of it, still far enough away that Arthur wouldn’t be able to see the mirror, and turned to face his friend. “Listen, I’m technically not supposed to show you this. I’m really not supposed to show anyone this mirror. It’s kinda dangerous, or whatever. So just, whatever you see, be careful? It’s just really calming to look in the mirror. I come here when I’m really lonely and stuff.”

Arthur scoffed, “You? Lonely? Aren’t you the guy who befriended everyone on every Quidditch team?”

Alfred shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. “Well, it’s different, and-”

“I understand.” Arthur cut him off, an earnest apology following. 

Ignoring the comments, Alfred took a deep breath and stepped into the room, pulling Arthur along. Only when he was almost in front of the mirror did Alfred let go of his hand, stepping forward alone to see his parents waiting for him. 

He had visited the mirror a few times, when Arthur ignoring him really got to him and he didn’t want to bother Matthew. For some reason, this year, he kept seeing a shape in the corner of the mirror. It wasn’t a smudge, he couldn’t wipe it off, but it was as though someone was hovering just out of his line of sight in the mirror. 

But this time, it was gone. 

Arthur was looking in the mirror, Alfred didn’t know when the other started, too absorbed in his own parents. In the mirror, Alfred watched through his reflection as Arthur’s eyes welled up with tears. He was shaking his head, mumbling words Alfred couldn’t make out. He began to grow concerned for his friend.

“I see my parents. What do you see?” He asked, trying to distract Arthur, to make him not cry. Alfred hated the pang in his chest and the burn in his stomach that had started to strike every time he saw his friend cry. 

Arthur let out a harsh laugh. “I see my father.”

Alfred blinked, after what Arthur had just told him- how his father hurt him, he wasn’t sure why Arthur would see him in a mirror that was meant to show a person’s wildest dreams. 

“He’s telling me he’s proud of me. That he’s sorry.” Arthur frowed. He began to shake his head and back away. “I hate this mirror.”

Alfred stepped after him, hesitating for a second- it was difficult to turn away from his parents. To turn his head from the reflection, from his dream. But he did. He turned to his friend and asked, “Why?”

“It’s lying to me. It’s showing me something that can never happen. I almost don’t want it to be true. It’s a bad mirror.”

“I’m sorry, I thought you’d like to see it, I mean, I love what I see, I don’t-”

Arthur shook his head again, “No, I’m glad it brings you joy. But I never want to see this thing again.”

Alfred stood silently, looking at his best friend, a boy who was so hurt, so beaten down.

Arthur seemed to sense Alfred’s confusion and spoke quietly, “We can still not go to class. I still think- telling you all that. It was hard, Alfred. I don’t want to go to class.”

Now this, this territory was familiar. Alfred knew how to handle this Arthur. The soft-spoken Arthur who was trying to be strong. This was the Arthur he talked with in Their Hallway for two years. “Alright? What do you want to do instead?”

Arthur frowned, “I’m not sure.”

Suddenly, Alfred had an idea. 

“Have you ever been in the Forbidden Forest?”

“Not outside of the lesson, no.”

“Do you want to?”

Arthur smiled, one that screamed both “distract me” and “I want to break some rules.”

“Bloody hell, yes.”

Alfred returned Arthur’s smile, but his was filled with joy and mischief. He grabbed Arthur’s hand again (was it always that nice to do so?), and took off through the castle. 

They paused when they hit the hallways that teachers would prowl, on the lookout for students who were ditching like they were. Moving slowly through the halls, they avoided the paintings that would scream and snitch on any student they saw out of class. 

Despite the chances of getting caught, Alfred and Arthur were practiced enough at sneaking around that they made it outside quickly. Ducking around the greenhouse, they booked it for the treeline, only stopping when they couldn’t see the castle any longer. 

Both trying to catch their breath, a feat made difficult when laughing all the while, neither noticed they were still holding hands, until Arthur paused and looked at them in thought. 

Alfred blushed (why, he didn’t know) and pulled his hand away before looking around. “You know, I’ve never actually been in here.”

Arthur blinked, “What? But you implied, in the castle?”

“Never said I’ve actually gone in. But it seemed fun!” Alfred smiled, suddenly hyper aware of all the rumors and warnings surrounding the forest. “Well, actually, maybe this was a bad idea…”

Arthur snorted. “What, backing out so soon? I guess that’s why you were sorted into Hufflepuff and not Gryffindor, isn’t it?” 

Alfred cried out in indignation, marching forwards to prove Arthur wrong. “I’m brave! I’ll prove it. Follow me.” 

“Do you even know where you’re going?” Arthur asked as he let Alfred lead them through the trees. 

“Not really, but when we want to leave, all we have to do is turn around and walk the opposite direction.” 

“That’s probably not the smartest way to get out of these woods, you know.”

Alfred shrugged and kept walking. It’s not like any students have ever died in the forest. They’d be fine. 

Well, Alfred stopped feeling so confident the further in they walked. The trees got taller, darker, more imposing. Suddenly, Alfred really, really wanted to leave. 

“Hey, Arthur?”

Arthur stepped closer to him, likely unsettled by their dark surroundings as well, “Yes?’

“We should leave, shouldn’t we.”

A nod, “I wouldn’t be opposed.”

They turned around and started walking what they hoped to be towards the exit. They hadn’t encountered anything in the hour or so they’d been walking, but one could never be so sure. 

“You know, if we tell anyone about this, we gotta make it seem like we really were in here. Like we saw some scary stuff. ‘Else they won’t believe us.” Alfred said, trying the break the silence.

Entering the woods had been easy, fun even. It had sounded like an adventure. But in the woods, it was scary. The extremely high pitch his voice involuntarily took was proof of his poorly-hidden fear.

“Yes, of course.” Arthur said, just as a loud screech echoed throughout the forest.

Alfred screamed and jumped, reaching for Arthur. 

Alfred barely registered as Arthur grabbed his hand before he started running. 

As they ran, Arthur let out a hysterical laugh. Alfred glanced over his shoulder at him in confusion, only to see a wild smile on Arthur’s face. 

“We’re fairly stupid, aren’t we? This forest is, well, forbidden.” Arthur huffed out between panting breaths. 

Alfred didn’t answer, too focused on running from whatever creature was definitely in the woods. 

Soon, the tree’s got thinner, the world got brighter, and through breaks in the trees they could see the Great Lake. They slowed to a walk, both gasping for breath. Only when they left the tree line did they collapse on the ground. 

It took a simple second of eye contact before they were laughing uncontrollably, both at their stupidity for going in the forest, and their over-the-top fear. As they calmed down, Alfred looked around, realizing they were quite far from the castle. Much farther than they had been when they entered the forest. 

With the grounds empty, Alfred assumed it was lunch time. So, with confidence that no one would see them, Alfred brushed himself off, stood, and began to walk towards the castle. Arthur walked next to him, quiet until he asked, “So, what’s the story?”

Alfred hummed out a questioning, “What?”

Arthur shrugged, “It’s boring if we just heard a scream, what are we going to tell our classmates we saw? We have to make you look like a fearless hero, don’t we?”

And suddenly, despite all Alfred had learned about Arthur, his home, and his life, something deep in Alfred was calmed. He knew he’d be alright. He knew Arthur would be alright. Because they were friends, and friends helped each other.

But, for some reason, as he looked at Arthur’s teasing smile, the word “friend” hurt to think. 

So he didn’t think it. He just laughed and helped create an amazing story. Something to make everyone jealous. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!!! sorry for the wait!  
> kudos and comments are loved so much!!  
> send requests to my tumblr @inkwells-writing !!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Just a warning, this is going to be multichaptered but i'm really bad at writing more than one chapter for things so updates may be slow.  
> Also i really love hufflepuff alfred and slytherin arthur.  
> I will also update and tags/warnings as the fic goes on. If I forget or you think I should add another warning, please let me know!


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